


Burn Brightly

by Mogseltof



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: (not the bad kind), Anxiety, Conversations, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, M/M, Misunderstandings, Weird Matrix Headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogseltof/pseuds/Mogseltof
Summary: Catastrophise, walk back down, rinse, repeat, kiss me better and tuck me in. I don't know how to make it stop, but I can make you smile.
Relationships: Bluestreak/Hot Rod, Bluestreak/Rodimus | Rodiumus Prime
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	Burn Brightly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rakketyrivertam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rakketyrivertam/gifts).



It was an old game. Bragging, shittalking, boasting—it was all the same really, and it had ended with them in a field with Hot Rod doing donuts at his highest speed while Bluestreak threw a basketball at him. It was stupid and fun and they wouldn’t have done it if they both hadn’t been running on less than a half hour’s recharge and fumes of energon. 

Hot Rod had accidentally punctured the ball while transforming back to root and Bluestreak had laughed so hard he’d fallen off his perch before dragging him back inside. They’d gotten halfway to making out, Bluestreak finding the main seam on Hot Rod’s back right up under his spoiler where it was  _ extra  _ sensitive, before falling into recharge, still tangled up together. 

Rodimus stared into middle distance, remembering the feeling of Bluestreak’s fingers between his plating and smiled. The more things changed the more things stayed the same. 

Light footsteps approached from behind him, and Rodimus didn’t bother looking up—Bluestreak’s field had enmeshed itself with his own as soon as they were in range of each other, and Rodimus was  _ not _ above using the extended range the Matrix had given him to find the familiar pulse of Bluestreak’s EM signature across a crowded room. Bluestreak’s field pulsed affectionately as he approached, the usual response to feeling Rodimus’ signature hit his sensors, and after a moment his bumper slotted up against Rodimus’ back in between the peaks of his spoiler, his arms draping around Rodimus’ neck to clasp loosely over his collar faring, and his warm faceplates pressed against the back of Rodimus’ helm. 

“You’re too big!” complained Bluestreak cheerfully like he did every night. 

“Not my fault you can’t keep up,” said Rodimus without having to think about the response. Bluestreak’s bumper rumbled against his back as his engine turned over with laughter, and Rodimus’ smile widened, tilting his head back. 

Bluestreak kissed his forehead as soon as it appeared, pressing the chevron of his helm against Rodimus’s own. He’d started doing it when he’d noticed Rodimus watching him do it to Smokescreen, a shared piece of affection and intimacy that Rodimus had never really had with anyone. Primus, in some ways it was like Bluestreak had looked at him and seen every single longing he couldn’t voice and just plucked them right out of his plating with those nimble fingers and precise movements. 

“You’re thinking again,” said Bluestreak, nudging his chevron and rubbing those fingers into the edges of Rodimus’ collar faring. 

“One of us has to,” retorted Rodimus, wrinkling his mouth up and nudging back in case Bluestreak thought he was actually mad. He hadn’t yet, but, well. The more things change. 

Bluestreak’s grin widened, his fingers finding those tiny seams that Rodimus would swear up and down weren’t even there except that Bluestreak  _ always _ found them. “You’ll fry your processor out and then you’ll be good for nothing except keeping me warm at night and then Arcee’ll bitch at me even more for hogging you all the time and then I’ll have to fight her for your honour and I’m gonna have to rig it so she doesn’t get me in melee because we all know that’s the only way she’s beating me and if I murder Arcee I’m going to die bloody and then I won’t even get to appreciate you, so really only you can prevent two senseless deaths and it’d be pretty heartless of you to let your best friend die like that!”

Rodimus laughed, his optics spiralling tighter with the reflex, and he felt his grin widen impossibly across his faceplates, cables tugging taught to accommodate the movement. “Well damn, you make a convincing argument there.”

“I am the most convincing,” said Bluestreak, shifting and shoving Rodimus around until he could sit sideways in Rodimus’ lap. “You know everything’s okay? Right? I mean, you  _ know _ yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Rodimus automatically, wrapping his arm around Bluestreak’s waist under his doors and taking the opportunity to tuck his head into the junction of Bluestreak’s neck and shoulders. 

“Hey no seriously—Rodimus look at me,” said Bluestreak with an uncharacteristically sharp streak in his tone, no nickname, rapping his knuckles against Rodimus’s shoulder. 

Rodimus’s grip tightened rebelliously, the cables in his neck tensing, but he made himself vent slowly and pull his head back, meeting Bluestreak’s eyes. 

His optics were bright and focused, and this close Rodimus could see the iris behind the glass tightening and then spiralling open a little more as his focus shifted to try and keep Rodimus clear when he was sitting so close. This had to be important then—Bluestreak’s optimisations meant that if he wanted to be able to tell what someone’s expression looked like during a conversation he pretty much had to be across the room. Humans considered long-sightedness a kind of defect and made tools to correct for it; Bluestreak had altered the internal mechanics of his own sight to take it on deliberately. Just one of those little sacrifices everyone had to make to do their bit. 

If Bluestreak was taking that tone but staying this close? It meant he had to say something he thought was going to make Rodimus upset. Like he had to inconvenience himself for Rodimus’s  _ comfort _ —

Bluestreak rapped his knuckles against Rodimus’s helm this time. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” said Rodimus, tracking the movements of Bluestreak’s plating for any tiny signs or indicators. 

“Thinking,” said Bluestreak, cupping Rodimus’ jaw and rubbing his face plating with the pad of his thumb. 

Rodimus felt the cables in his face loosen slowly under the gentle pressure even as his electromagnetics started peaking and pulsing without his permission. Bluestreak frowned a little and flooded his own field with charge in response. Even with the added force it paled in comparison to Rodimus’s own field these days, but it was enough to bring him down before he could get carried away. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“So you should be,” said Bluestreak, mock stern and grinning again, their fields calming and meshing together in fuzzy synchronicity that warmed Rodimus despite it not having temperature, really. “How many times do I have to tell you to cut that out?”

“Maybe I just want to keep you warm,” said Rodimus, smiling back at Bluestreak and tightening his grip, flooding his fuel lines with the higher powered reserves. 

Bluestreak gasped and pressed closer to Rodimus’s approximately 300% more flammable frame, laughing in a higher pitch. “Oh! Now you’re getting it!”

Getting what, Rodimus wanted to ask, but—

Bluestreak was smiling again, and he’d shuttered his optics, and he was arching into Rodimus’ grip in that lovely way with his doors picked up high and his seams flared for touching and he was turning that incredible focus of his onto the spots where their frames were touching and why in the name of any Prime lying in the case around his spark would Rodimus want to ask something as inconsequential as that right now?

Burn brightly and ask later; it had always been his policy and, well, the more things change—

Bluestreak caught Rodimus’s mouth with his own, and Rodimus stopped thinking. 

**Author's Note:**

> Rarepair city here I am. This one's for River who keeps coming up with the Best Damn Thoughts on cool dynamics that I can't walk away from!


End file.
